James Potter and the Unicorn Tail Hairs
by HR always live on
Summary: James Potter is starting Hogwarts, trying to follow in his parents very large footsteps. Adventures galore! My first attempt at next generation HP. Please review if you have time, thank you. Ch 13 up
1. Prologue

_Prologue._

The fire crackled loudly in the grate, the dusk gathering outside. He scratched the quill on the parchment, making yet another note on the old book he was reading. The book in question was yellowed so severely that the ink and paper were almost the same colour. The pages almost cracked with age every time he turned over a page, sending up a small cloud of dust. He blew it away in irritation, his finger following the lines of ink.  
A clap of thunder sounded outside, making him get up, carefully putting the book on the table. Looking outside the window he saw a dark shadow getting steadily bigger.

Another flash of lightening cracked the sky open and he saw his first impression had been right. An owl was approaching. He watched the dark spot, throwing the window open as the soaking wet bird came in. The bird shook himself, water droplets spraying the room, much to his irritation, then held out the leg with the parchment roll on it. The roll was surprisingly dry and his annoyance with the wet bird vanished instantly. The letter contained only three words. _Tomorrow. It's time._

He smiled and poked the parchment with his wand, setting light to it. The curled ashes dropped to the threadbare carpet and he abandoned them. It was time to leave. He had things to do.


	2. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**So, such a bad idea to start a fic before going on holiday, but here goes. My first attempt at next generation HP**

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"Go on," Ginny said to her eldest son. James looked at the wall between platforms nine and ten on Kings Cross station. It looked shockingly solid. But growing up in a household with magical parents had made him accept that not everything was as it seemed. He smiled at his younger siblings who were eagerly looking at the wall. This was all of their first visit to the station, James being the first one of the Potter children to go to Hogwarts. He had a lot to live up to. Taking a deep breath he ran at the wall and heard the moment he'd passed onto the platform. The noise of the station had changed, eager students chattering away and hooting owls sounding over every part of the station. James smiled, waiting for the rest of his family to come through the solid wall.

It took only a minute or two before Harry and Albus came through, Ginny and Lily following after them. His parents smiled expectantly at James, and he suddenly felt an urgent need to get away from them. The weight of expectation on him was far too heavy and he had to get away. He looked at the clock and saw it was five to eleven. Only five minutes before the train was going to leave, much to his relief.

"Don't get into too much trouble," Harry said.

"That's rich!" James said. "After all the stuff you two got up to at school!"

"Yes well," Ginny said with a shrug. "We were young and stupid. Just be careful."

"Yes mum," James said, feeling that he couldn't get into as much trouble as his father had in his time. It would involve breaking the world record. "I've got to get on the train," James said. He gave his parents a hug each and then dragged his trunk onto the train. Lily and Albus were looking enviously on. Since before they could even speak they'd heard about how wonderful Hogwarts was, and James got there first much to the other two's annoyance.

"Remember everything," Albus said. "I want to know it all!"

"I will," James said with a grin. "I'll write. I'll send Farley back all the time," he added, looking at the barn owl in his cage on top of his trunk. The Hogwarts Express gave a loud whistle. Just a minute left to get onto the train. "I have to go."

"Have a good year," Harry said, smiling at his son. "See you at Christmas."

"Yeah," James said with a wink, getting onto the train. Not a moment too soon either. The train started billowing smoke and moving slowly as James waved to his family through the glass on the train door. They waved back and James stayed put until they were out of sight. With a sigh, he started looking for an empty compartment. Surprisingly he found one in the second one he looked. Sheer luck. He dragged his trunk in and managed to put it on the luggage rack without too much of a struggle. He hadn't even sat down when the door opened with a loud crack.

"James!"

He turned around quickly and then smiled as he saw the familiar freckled face with red hair. "Fred! I forgot you were coming to Hogwarts this year too."

"I'm hurt!" Fred said sarcastically. "I'm your cousin."

"I know," James said, relieved to see a friendly face. Fred sat down and closed his eyes, as if going to sleep already. "Fred?"

"Mm?"

James nearly didn't speak but as the minutes passed by in silence he felt that he had to. "Are you scared?"

"Terrified," Fred said honestly, opening his eyes. "I'm named after my dads twin brother who died at the great battle of Hogwarts and my entire family fought against the ultimate evil Lord Voldemort. Quite impossible to live up to that…"

"Tell me about it," James said. "My father destroyed the most evil wizard of all time. No matter what I do… I feel like I've already failed."

"Yep," Fred said easily. "So I've decided to just forget it. I can't succeed like that… fight the greatest evil the world has ever known? I can't compete. So why waste energy trying?"

James nodded, knowing he had a point. But it was easier said than done. James opened his mouth to talk about Quidditch to take his mind off of things when the door opened. A small girl with short blonde hair and blue eyes poked her head in.

"This seat free?"

"Yeah," James said. She smiled and pulled her trunk into the compartment, propping her feet up on it as she sat down.

"I'm Lucy."

"James," he said with a smile.

"Fred."

"Hi," she said easily. She opened her trunk and got out a large thick book before flipping it open and reading it.

"Hogwarts, A history," James read off of the cover. "No one ever reads that book."

Lucy looked up confused. "What?"

"Everyone owns that book, no one reads it," Fred commented, agreeing with James. "Except Aunt Hermione but she's weird like that."

"But… I know nothing about the castle or anything," Lucy said, seeming suddenly embarrassed. "I don't want to be behind."

"You're muggle born?" James asked pleasantly.

"Er… yeah," she said, a blush on her cheeks. "I bet everyone knows so much more than me," she added bitterly.

"Oh don't worry," James said. "We all start at the beginning."

"Well, I still want to know all I can," she said. "Are you both first years?"

"Yes."

"Is it true that the ceiling of the great hall is enchanted?"

"Yes," James said. "Like the sky outside. Apparently it looks like it doesn't have a roof at all."

"So," Lucy said, snapping the book shut. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor," Fred and James said at the same time, making them both laugh.

"Wow. Arrogant much?"

"What do you mean?" James asked, his brow creasing in question.

"Well, I've read a bit about the school houses and it seems to be in recent times that everyone wants to be in Gryffindor," Lucy said, rolling her eyes.

"Not true," Fred said. "I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw."

"It is true," Lucy said, smiling. "Ask any first year on the train, they all want to be Gryffindors!"

"Well, if I'm not in Gryffindor I'll be disowned," James said. "Both of my parents were, all of my grandparents were and every single one of my six uncles were too. What they'll say if I'm not… I don't know," James finished, swallowing the lump in his throat with difficulty.

"Sorry," Lucy said. "I didn't mean to… Sorry." James shrugged as if it didn't matter, when of course it did. Before anyone could say anything further the lunch trolley came around, pushed by a stringy looking and sour faced man in his early twenties.

"What d'you want?" he asked sharply.

"Great I'm starving," Lucy said. "I was too nervous to mange breakfast." She got out her purse and then frowned. "No chance you take pounds?"

"Galleons, sickles or knuts only," he almost grunted. The look of disappointment on Lucy's face was comical. James handed her a dozen or so sickles.

"Oh you can't do that!" she said.

"I'm buying your money off of you," he said. "Don't worry. Just give me a chocolate frog." She hesitated for a moment and then smiled eagerly, pushing a paper note in James's direction. She spent every last sickle on a variety of sweets, spreading them out over the table. Fred's mouth dropped open and his stomach growled loudly.

"Help yourself," she said, pushing a Fizzing Whizbee towards Fred. He didn't need much persuasion. James looked at the note he'd been given. He didn't quite understand how people could expect to buy things with bits of paper, but then again he didn't live in the muggle world. Who was he to say what was normal? He put the note in his pocket, deciding to keep hold of that. His fingers kept brushing against the note throughout the rest of the journey, the train taking them closer and closer towards Hogwarts.

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**More in a week or so. In the meantime, please leave a review and let me know what you think. :-)**


	3. The Sorting

Dusk was gathering and the train started to slow. "We're nearly there," Fred said. James straightened his robes and felt nervous. Lucy's face had gone white and she was clearly nervous too.

"It'll be all right," James said to her, even though he himself felt hollow. The journey up to the castle was blurry. He didn't remember saying hello to Hagrid, even though he knew he had, and he didn't remember getting into the boat to cross the lake.

However he did remember seeing the castle for the first time. He'd heard about Hogwarts his entire life, and imagined the castle in several ways. He didn't expect it to be so vast. In the darkness he couldn't see the details, but the amount of torches and fires lighting up the windows showed it even bigger than he'd expected. It was a vast building.

"Wow!" Lucy whispered from the front of the boat. "This is a school?"

"Hogwarts," James said under his breath, feeling a sense of awe that he hadn't anticipated. Ever since he could remember he'd expected to go here. But he couldn't believe he'd actually set eyes on the school after so long. It looked magnificent. The boats drew to a stop, grinding slightly as they hit the shore. All of the first years jumped down, some of the girls squealed as their feet got wet at the edge of the lake. Hagrid led them up to the great hall, a silence falling over the lot of them. They waited outside the closed doors as a tall man in dark green robes holding a roll of parchment approached them and Hagrid said goodbye as he walked of. The stranger had blonde hair and a goatee and an exasperated unpleasant look on his face. James did not like the look of him one bit.

"I'm Professor Martin, the deputy headmaster," he said. "I will be leading you into the great hall for the sorting. For those of you who don't know, all you have to do is try on the sorting hat, which will then tell you which house is yours. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. These hourglasses here show the level of the house points," he said, pointing out the four identical items, all empty of stones in the bottom half, the top filled with bulging gems of blue, red, green and yellow. As the students watched one green glass stone dropped from the top into the bottom, indicating Slytherin. It made a tiny tinkling sound as it hit the bottom.

"The winner of the house cup will be the house with the most points at the end of the school year. Now, if you'd like to follow me." He pointed his wand at the doors which flew open and then led the first years to the front of the hall. The buzz of conversation died down as everyone watched them and James felt like he was under a bright spotlight. He looked too much like his father and he knew people would make comparisons.

"Everyone's staring at me," Lucy hissed under her breath.

"Why would they be staring at you?" James asked. Lucy didn't get a chance to answer as Professor Martin glared at them to be quiet, but her face turned red anyway. There was a stool with an old hat sitting there and James felt sick when he knew what was coming. He stared at the hat as the hall filled with total silence. Then the rip at the mouth opened and the hat began to sing.

_Another time has come and gone,_  
_It's now the start of the year._  
_Once more I'm here to sort you all,_  
_But don't you dare to fear._  
_I know where you do best belong,_  
_And see inside your mind._  
_I place you where is right for you,_  
_Even though I'm blind._  
_So what are these houses four?_  
_Well let me tell the story._  
_Four people of greatest magic_  
_Began this school of glory._  
_They split the students into four,_  
_Each child for their own place._  
_And now I will describe to you,_  
_Why each one has its grace._  
_Gryffindor's are brave and daring,_  
_Ravenclaw's are smarter than you,_  
_Slytherin's are ambitious,_  
_Hufflepuff's are just and true._  
_Each one is a unique house,_  
_For its own special reasons._  
_So put me on, I'm never wrong,_  
_No matter what the season._

The hall burst into applause and James felt very distant from his body. He couldn't get his brain to connect. Did every first year student feel like this? Before he could dwell further on it Professor Martin started reading names from the list. First was a tiny boy called David Appleby. He was pronounced a "Slytherin!" loudly and he went and joined that table, relief on his face.

James looked at Fred, knowing he would be nearly last and saw that he looked slightly green. Lucy looked white. James had no idea what he looked like but he knew it couldn't be good. "Lucy Chadwick."

She went up to the stool and sat nervously as the hat slid on past her eyes. After a minute or two it declared "Hufflepuff!" to the room at large. James felt his heart sink. He would have liked to have a friend with him in Gryffindor. That is if he got into Gryffindor in the first place he thought with a surge of terror. He counted the seconds as each name got called off. He was concentrating so hard that he almost missed his own name. "James Potter." A hiss like a snake went over the hall.

"Potter?"

"_The_ Harry Potters son?"

"Got to be. Looks just like him."

"Oh yeah, even has the glasses!"

"That will do!" Professor Martin said, quelling the hall with a look. They went into silence as James put the hat on his head.

"Hello Potter, I've been wondering when you were going to come to Hogwarts," a voice in his ear said. James's only thought was hurry up. He didn't like the entire hall watching him. The hat tsked in his ear. "Don't worry, I'm never wrong. People with magical parents always seem so worried. I think I know what to do with you James.

"Hufflepuff!" There was a mixture of applause and gasps. James guessed that, like himself, people had thought he would be a Gryffindor. But he wasn't. His heart went down to the depths of the earth as he realised he wouldn't be sitting at the Gryffindor table. He wouldn't sit where his father and mother had sat twenty years ago. Instead, he had to go to the Hufflepuff table. He took the hat off and went to sit next to Lucy, his heart low.

How would he ever be able to tell his parents this?

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**Thanks for the reviews so far. I'll try to get more written in the next couple of days :)**


	4. The Feast

**Thank you for the reviews. They really make my day, especially as I don't write HP fiction often.**

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James stared at his plate with disdain as the food magically appeared in front of them. Lucy's mouth dropped open as she saw the food and then she smiled, helping herself. James followed suit after a minute and then turned around to look at the Gryffindor table. Fred was in conversation with an oriental first year. He didn't even see James looking. Lucky git, James thought ruefully. All the while he was eating, he was thinking of the letter he had to write to his parents. He would go up to the owlery as soon as possible to send it. No matter how unhappy he was with the choice of his house, it would be worse if they heard it from someone else.

"Cheer up," Lucy said. "What's the matter?"

"All four of my grandparents were in Gryffindor. My parents too. I'm supposed to tell them I'm not? I have no idea what they'll say," James said honestly. "My dad's maybe the best remembered Gryffindor there is since Godric Gryffindor himself."

"Yeah, right," Lucy said rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"He's not lying," someone said from across the table. They both turned and saw a black boy listening to their conversation. "Jason Boyd," he added.

"Well," Lucy said, her thought interrupted. "You're not your dad though."

"Apparently." James pushed his plate away.

"Oh come on, we're not that bad," Jason said. "Maybe it's a good thing you're away from all that family history. You'll be able to do things your father never did. Visit a part of the castle he never did."

"Maybe you're right," James said. "I'm just being… stupid." He sighed and pulled the potatoes back in front of him. He was silent as he ate, listening to Jason and Lucy start chatting. They were talking about subjects they wanted to start.

"Mum says I'll be good at charms," Jason said. "When I was younger I was constantly making things change colour and stuff like that."

"Your mum's a witch?" Lucy asked.

"Yeah. Dads not got any magic in him though. He has no idea about anything with magic. Didn't believe my mum was a witch until I was three and he found me in the locked basement."

"Wow," Lucy said.

"What gave it away that you were a witch?" Jason asked. "You said you were muggle born?"

"Yeah," she said. "My dad died when I was seven. And I turned everything in the house black. My mother thought I'd gone crazy."

"I bet," James said. "Sorry. About your father."

"Doesn't matter," she said with a shrug, and he knew that she didn't want to talk about it. "What about potions? Which one teaches that?"

"I don't know," Jason said looking up at the staff table. "Maybe the thin tall man on the end?"

"No, that's Neville Longbottom," James said. "Herbology. He's a friend of my parents."

"Oh," Lucy said. "Not to sound thick, but what's Herbology?"

"Magical plants," James said. "Down in the greenhouses in the grounds."

Before anything further could be said the food on the plates vanished to be replaced with desserts. James, even when he was not looking forward to telling his parents of his house placement couldn't fail to be impressed. Apple pies, blocks of ice cream, treacle pudding, rhubarb crumble, strawberry meringues, tarts and trifles in every flavour imaginable. It was delicious. By the time dinner was finished, James felt both full and happy. He turned to the top table and saw Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress, addressing the students. She looked the same as she ever did, and James knew that she would never leave this school as long as she breathed, no matter how long she'd been here already.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," she said, a smile on her thin lips. "So, some notices for the new students. As always, the forest is out of bounds, because there is a reason it is forbidden. It's a dangerous place to be. Quidditch trials for the house teams will begin on the second Saturday of term. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that there is to be no magic in the corridors or between lessons. First years, if you'd like to follow your prefects to your house common rooms, I will say goodnight. Have a good term." There was a rush of noise and everyone got up to go to their dormitories.

James and Lucy looked around for a prefect and found a tall thin red haired girl calling the first years towards her. They walked towards her, through the jabbering noise and then she led them out of the hall. All of the students were silent, following her with a mixture of awe and respect as they went through the large entrance hall. The unnamed prefect led them down a short flight of stairs to the right, went down a long thin and dark corridor and then stopped at what appeared to be a dead end. The wall was blank, but beneath it were a dozen or so wooden barrels, stacked precariously. The prefect retrieved her wand from her robe and then told them to gather around. She tapped the barrel in the centre very specifically, and told them to remember the rhythm.

Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Then five more taps with her wand and the barrel yawned as if waking from a deep sleep. A crack opened in the wood to form a mouth, and the barrel was actually yawning.

"Password?" he asked, his voice sounding ancient and tired.

"Tita Morgis," the prefect said. Then, suddenly all of the barrels moved of their own accord, revealing the entrance to a large tunnel. The prefect hunched over slightly to walk through it but the first years didn't need to. They trailed after her and sure enough, soon they were standing in a circular room, which must be their common room. It was very cosy. There were two fires roaring at each end of the room, crackling delightfully. Around one, several grey vines of an unknown plant were curling around the mantelpiece, clearly the plant liked the warmth. Around the top of the room were circular windows, letting the moonlight shine in. There were more chairs and sofas in yellow and black than James could count and it looked very comfortable. A portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, smiling at the new additions to her house, hung high on the wall between two more doors, both round.

"The door on the right is to the girls dormitories, the left is the boys."

"I thought we'd be in a tower," one of the girls moaned.

"One day you'll be grateful you're near the kitchens," the prefect replied knowingly.

"When you're late for class and don't have to miss breakfast. Gryffindors are about half a mile away from the great hall."

The girls and boys split off from one another and James led the boys through the bricked tunnel. Every few yards there was a door with a sign on. Seventh years, sixth year, fifth and so on. The first years were at the very end of the tunnel and James opened the door to find seven four poster beds in a large and spacious room. One wall wasn't a wall at all. It was completely made out of glass, showing a view of the grounds and the forbidden forest. From the light thrown out by the castle James could even see Hagrid's house from here, one window lit up.

A loud hoot brought him back and he saw, sitting on his bed was Farley. "You know I have a letter to write don't you?" James said, stroking the owl's head gently. "Hang on, let me find my parchment and quill." James rummaged in his trunk and soon he'd written a short letter. He tied it to Farley's leg, and then opened a small portion of the grand window. The owl hooted before taking off into the night. James closed the window against the cold night chill and he fell into bed. Much to his surprise, he fell asleep almost instantly.


	5. Potions with Tabitha

James awoke to the sunshine streaming in through the window. Swinging his legs out of bed he watched over the grounds as several owls flew overhead, heading towards the owlery for their rest for the day. All of the other boys were still asleep, so in silence James pulled his robes on. He left the dormitories and went to the empty common room. It was still early. The sofa's were empty and the fires were out. He turned and looked at the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, gently snoring in her frame. James admired her for many moments.

"You look worried," the portrait said.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"One doesn't need much sleep when one is little more than paint on a canvas," she said, her eyes alight with humour. "Why so glum? It's your first day at Hogwarts, you should be thrilled."

"Do you know my father?" James asked.

"Never met him," she said cheerfully. "But heard all about him. The famous Harry Potter. I must admit, I'm surprised to hear that a Potter is in Hufflepuff. But pleased. Most of the Potters seem to be brave to the point of stupidity. I'm afraid to say, your father shared that quality. You at least might have a little more sense about you."

James felt like he should be angry, his father being slighted, but in fact it was refreshing to be compared favourably with him. Even if it was just a guess to his character. "Can you fly boy?"

"Yes," he said honestly. "Not seeking though. I'm better at being a beater. We were using just regular balls at home. I accidentally cracked my brothers skull." James smiled at the memory. His brother had never let him forget it, even though his skull had been fixed in minutes.

"Good," she said, smiling at him. "Have fun on the Quidditch pitch."

"First years can't join can they?"

"They can," she said. "The rules have changed, mostly because seekers need to be light and speedy. But I'm sure you'll do well." There was a sound of footsteps approaching. "Good luck Potter," Helga said, before closing her eyes and feigning sleep once more. James watched as unfamiliar students came into the common room, chatting familiarly with each other. Third or fourth years he guessed. Turning to the great hall, he went for breakfast.

By the time Lucy joined him, he was on his third slice of toast and the post was just arriving. She looked up in surprise as several owl swooped down to the Hufflepuff table.

"This is how the post arrives?" Lucy asked, watching as dozens of owls flew over the house tables, even a few for the teachers.

"Yep," James said unconcerned. Farley wasn't present, but he'd probably come tomorrow with his fathers reply.

James turned and saw the heads of houses giving out the timetables. Professor Longbottom was head of Gryffindor, Flitwick for Ravenclaw, a small and quiet witch for Slytherin and Professor Martin for Hufflepuff.

He gave out the timetables. "What do you teach sir?" James asked before he could stop himself.

"Transfiguration," he said with a slight smile. "I have you this afternoon actually."

"Great," Lucy said looking at her timetable. As soon as Martin had moved on, Fred came and sat on the bench next to them.

"So we have Herbology together later then?" James looked and saw that he was indeed sharing Herbology with the Gryffindors. Last lesson of the day. This morning he had double potions with the Ravenclaws, taught by Professor Edwards. That should be interesting.

"How's the Gryffindor common room then?" James asked.

"Lonely," he admitted. "I thought I'd be sharing it with you."

"Have I just vanished into the surroundings?" Lucy asked tartly.

"Well, you were an unknown entity," Fred said. "We didn't have any expectations."

"Just because I'm in Hufflepuff does not mean "I've failed to meet expectations"," she said firmly. "I happen to like my house."

"I didn't mean it that way," Fred said, turning red. "I meant that you had no pressure from your family," he said. "That's all."

"Right," she said.

"Not a Weasley or a Potter," James said with a wide grin. "Come on," he said to Lucy. "We better get going to the dungeons." Fred went back to his table and carried on eating breakfast while the other two headed downstairs. The dungeons were lit only by torchlight and they were freezing. They'd only been there a few moments when the door opened and a tiny plump little witch with a friendly face came out of the classroom, holding the door open for the students. They all filed in and sat behind their desks, two to a cauldron. James picked one in the middle and Lucy sat next to him, peering inside the cauldron which she'd never seen before. But at the moment it was empty.

"Right, good morning students! I'm Tabitha Edwards, head of Slytherin house and teacher of potions at Hogwarts. Welcome!" The students looked between themselves at this falsely cheery greeting. No one could be that happy.

"This morning you will be making a simple sleeping draught," she said, dropping the happy smile, but her grey eyes still sparkled. "Its not too complicated." She waved her wand at the backboard and the instructions appeared. She waved it again at the student cupboard and the jars of ingredients started shaking eagerly. "Go."

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James looked at his and Lucy's potion with disdain. It was supposed to look like thick cream. Instead it looked like blue smoke in liquid form. How on earth had they messed up with only five different ingredients? "This isn't going well is it?" Lucy said.

"No," James agreed. He was about to suggest starting again when Professor Edwards pointed her wand in the air to make a loud blast like a cannon. Everyone stopped and looked at her, which was her intention.

"I'll check everyone's work now." She went among the cauldrons, seeing several to her satisfaction. As luck would have it James and Lucy were last. Professor Edwards looked inside the cauldron and her face went white. "This… is not a sleeping draught," she said, stuttering over her words slightly.

"No," James agreed, feeling it was pointless to deny it. Edwards glared at them both and Lucy looked at James warily. At that moment the bell rang.

"Class, research the uses of bat spleen in sleeping draughts, to be in on Thursday," she said over the noise of children heading for the door. "Mr Potter and Miss Chadwick, I want a word." They stood in trepidation while all the other students filed out of the room. When they were alone the teacher pointed her wand at the door, which locked with an ominous click.

"What did you do?"

"Do?" Lucy asked, her face pale.

"To create… this potion?" Professor Edwards said in a hiss, the formerly cheerful look on her face long since vanished. She looked furious.

"Nothing," James said. "I mean, we just followed the instructions on the board."

"Not very well," Lucy piped in. The teacher looked at the potion, confusion on her face. "What… what potion have we made?"

"Nothing," the teacher said with a shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. Go and get your lunch." They paused, looking at each other and then down at the potion. Which then vanished with a wave of Edwards wand.

"Go!" Quickly grabbing their bags they ran through the door, which burst open the second Lucy's hand touched it. They ran through the dungeons, up into the higher levels of the castle.

"What the hell was that about?" Lucy asked breathlessly.

"I have no idea," James replied firmly.

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**Thank you for the reviews so far, they make my day :)**


	6. The Passing of the Cloak

Both Lucy and James were quiet as they headed into their Transfiguration class that afternoon. Jason Boyd sat next to them and whispered in an undertone. "What did you do in potions?"

"I have no idea," James said.

"We made something… wrong," Lucy said.

"She seemed furious with you!"

"I know," James said. They were hushed by Professor Martin who glared at the class to be silent.

"Today you will be turning matchsticks into needles," he said. "Or attempting to, I doubt this early in your magical training you'll be able to. So wands out, and practise. The incantation is mutari inacus. Begin."

Professor Martin walked between their desks, correcting wand movement and the way the incantation was said. James got his wand out and looked at it. The first time since arriving at Hogwarts. He couldn't do any magic yet but he had learnt from his father never to go anywhere without his wand. Ten inches, maple with a core of dragon heartstring. Literally the heart of a dragon. He pointed it at the matchstick and felt foolish as he mumbled the incantation. Nothing happened.

He jabbed his wand at the matchstick and repeated himself louder. Lucy next to him was following his example. "Yes!" He turned and saw her looking at a needle. She was the first one in the class to accomplish it. James tried again, and much to his surprise, found the matchstick slowly changing shape. It stopped changing halfway through. Come on, he found himself thinking to himself. Mutari inacus! The stick changed to a needle the rest of the way. James smiled in pleasure at the success.

"Well done," Professor Martin said. "Try again." The whole class was watching as Lucy and James were given another matchstick. They caught each others eyes and looked at their items, willing them to change. Mutari inacus! James thought fervently. He grinned as the stick changed into a needle yet again.

The entire class was staring at him. It was only at this point that James realised he hadn't spoken at all. He'd thought the incantation in his head. "Potter how did you do that?"

"I thought it," James said with a shrug. "Sorry, was that wrong?"

"Nigh on impossible," Professor Martin said in astonishment.

"Well, I didn't do it on purpose," he said in his defence. "I was just… stop looking at me!"

Lucy was the only one who didn't turn away from James. Everyone else concentrated on their own work, the babble of conversation breaking out over the entire room. James stared at his two needles, his pleasure in his magic all but gone. Why couldn't he just be normal. Why couldn't he walk down the corridors without being stared at?

* * *

That night James got into bed when there was a tap at the window. He looked up and saw Farley tapping on the glass. He darted up and opened the window and the bird flew over the boys beds, making everyone look at him before swooping down to James's shoulder. He smiled and unrolled the parchment letter from his father.

_James, meet me in the trophy room tonight. I'm proud of you. Harry._

James turned over the parchment but there was no more. That was it? And why was his father at Hogwarts in the first place? But James knew he would go to see him. Curiosity if nothing else. So he quickly got dressed.

"Where are you going?" Jason asked.

"It doesn't matter," James said.

"Don't get caught."

"I wasn't planning on it," James said with a smile. "I guess I am my father's son."

"Want company?"

"Not this time." James looked to make sure the other boys weren't listening. "My father wants to see me."

"Well I'll come sneaking with you around the castle some other night then," Jason said with a smile. Farley flew out of the open window and James quickly left the Hufflepuff dormitories. Throughout the castle there was an absence of people. James was pleased not to bump into anyone, and breathed easy when he got to the unlocked trophy room. But there was no one there.

"Dad!" he hissed, creeping through the cabinets of silverware. "Dad!" James was just beginning to wonder if it had been a trap when Harry appeared, as if from nowhere in the middle of the room. The famous invisibility cloak fell to the floor. James had never seen it, but heard of it frequently. He had longed to see it and the silvery material was beautiful to behold. James wanted to slip under it, to see what it felt like to be invisible. To be in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts under his father and grandfathers famous cloak would be something indeed.

James tore his eyes away from the cloak and looked at his father. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see my son," he said. "I hope you're not too disappointed with your house. Just because I was a Gryffindor never once meant you had to be."

"I know," James said. "I just hear so many stories. From you and mum. And all my uncles, and aunt Hermione. I half expected to be there that's all. I've gotten used to it now."

"Good," Harry said. "Tell me about your first day." So James did.

"You managed a non verbal spell on your first day?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I just did it without thinking about it," James said. "I wish I hadn't. Everyone's acting like it's a big deal." This was perfectly true and he hadn't liked the stares throughout dinner.

"Your mother and I are so proud of you," Harry said with a smile. "So where is the Hufflepuff common room? I never came across it."

"By the kitchens," James said. "But I'm not telling you how to get into them."

"Fair enough," he said. "I came here to give you this." Harry passed the silky invisibility cloak. "I couldn't do it in front of your brother, he'd be jealous."

"Really?" James asked eagerly. "I get your cloak?"

"It's your cloak now," Harry said. "It goes to my eldest son, and then your eldest son. Don't flaunt it in front of Albus though."

"Wow," James said. "Thanks dad." He reached for the material which ran through his hands softly. Like water.

"Put it on," Harry said smiling. "Lets see how it looks." James barely needed the encouragement. He pulled it on over his shoulders and then his head. He felt no different but Harry's eyes drifted over the place where he'd been, so he knew he'd vanished.

"That's incredible," James said, reappearing. Harry smiled at him. Harry opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a wisp of smoke appearing in the room. The smoke turned silvery and took a distinct form of an eagle. A large, beautiful broad winged eagle. Someone's patronus which swooped down in front of Harry.

_"Return to the ministry. Drood. Now._" The patronus vanished almost instantly and James was left open mouthed. Harry sprung into action.

"James, put that cloak on and go back to your common room. Now."

"Dad, what was that?" James asked. "What did it mean?"

"Now James," Harry said fervently. "I'll write, but I have to go to the Auror office."

Harry vanished so quickly out of the door that he might have apparated. James shook himself and covered himself in the cloak. He headed back to the Hufflepuff common room, his mind racing. What on earth had that meant?

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	7. McGonagall Interrupts

**Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Hope I still have readers and reviewers, and thank you for being patient.**

* * *

James spent the next day in deep thought. He wanted to know what that had meant last night with his dad. Drood. What or who on earth was drood?

"Are you ignoring me?" Lucy asked at lunch.

"No," he said. "Sorry." He looked around but no one was listening. "My dad came to the school last night."

"Why?" Lucy asked.

"To see me I guess," James said with a shrug. He wasn't sure he wanted to divulge the fact he had inherited his fathers invisibility cloak yet. "That wasn't the odd bit. He was called back to the ministry. An alert about something called Drood. Have you ever heard about it?" he asked, wondering if her muggle upbringing had let her come across something he hadn't.

"No," she said. "What is it?"

"I don't know," he said. "That's the frustrating bit. Dad didn't stay long enough to tell me. He just told me to go back to my dormitory. I was hoping for a letter, but he hasn't sent me one today."

"He's probably busy," Lucy consoled. "I've heard he's head of the Auror office right?"

"Yeah," James said. He didn't want to dwell on what other rumours she might have heard about his prolific father.

"Maybe he'll send you a letter over the weekend?"

"Yeah maybe," he said. "I'm just worrying over nothing." He said it to reassure himself as much as anything else.

"Are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?" she asked, trying to distract him. "Try outs are tomorrow aren't they?"

"Yes," James said. "I don't know if I should. I might… I won't be as good as my dad."

"He's not here," Lucy said. "You are. You don't have to live in his shadow. Don't live by his standards."

"Thanks," he said. "I've got a good broom actually." There was a pause as Lucy searched for something to change the subject.

"We've got Defence against the Dark Arts this afternoon. With Professor…" Lucy checked her timetable. "No, really?"

"What?"

"Professor M... Mut... Mutuari?!"

"You're lying," James said, getting out his own timetable. "Oh wow, no you're not. How do you even pronounce that?"

Lucy laughed at the look on his face, poking out his tongue in concentration.

* * *

However, when it came down to it, no one wanted to laugh at the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher herself. Professor Mutuari was a tiny little witch, a few inches below five foot, with a severe and harsh face, and apparently no sense of humour. She seemed to be in her late twenties, and had straight blonde hair.

She waved her wand, making textbooks appear on each of their desks. An introduction to Defence. James was reminded of Umbridge, who he had heard all sorts of stories about. The evil old hag who ruined the school for a few months in his father's fifth year.

"Okay, turn to page three and look at the wand movements illustrated." There was a loud rustling as everyone did and James looked at the title of the section. Simple repelling spell. It didn't seem too difficult. The incantation was Non Oppugnas. "So as not to cause any danger to you, inexperienced as you are, I'm going to cast a weather charm. If you are successful with your repelling spell, the effects of the charm will not touch you. Begin. Pluvia Caligo."  
Suddenly a wet mist descended on the room and several people shrieked. Within a few minutes the entire class was soaked through, but everyone seemed to be having fun, trying the repelling spell. James laughed as Lucy's attempt managed to burn a hole in her text book.

Over the general cacophony and mayhem, no one heard the knock on the classroom door. It opened and Professor McGonagall stood there watching with disbelief at the chaos. "Finite Incatatem," she said clearly. Everything stopped and students turned to see what had caused it, everything in the room now dripping with rain water. "I need to speak to Potter." James tried to think what on earth he had done that would require the headmistress to pull him out of class, but nothing came to him. Maybe she knew that he'd been around the castle at night. But he was with the head of the Auror office, nothing could have happened to him. Apart from the minor fact is was against the rules.

"Now please, and bring your things." McGonagall said. Everyone was staring at him as he slowly packed up his belongings and followed McGonagall out of the classroom. He caught Lucy's eye and she seemed just as confused as he was.  
Once in the corridor she looked at him and seemed to notice that he was soaked through. She waved her wand briefly and he dried off instantly, feeling much warmer. "Potter, follow me to my office."

"Professor, am I… in trouble?" he asked, following her large steps through the castle.

"No, of course not," she said briskly. "Should you be?" she asked wryly as they went down a sweeping staircase.

"No," he said so quickly that he was sure she wouldn't believe him. But McGonagall didn't mention it, just led the way to her office. The gargoyle stood to attention and she gave the password. "Magnum dolorem." The gargoyle sprung aside and let them go up the spiral staircase. James walked into her office, feeling a sense of foreboding.

"Professor, what is going on?" he said quietly, noticing that all of the portraits were awake and listening intently.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news James," she said. All at once James realised that her severe face was broken. She seemed very upset, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. A moment later he could. "I'm afraid your father's dead."

There was a shocked silence in the room. "What?" James said. "No. He can't be. There's… been a mistake."

"No," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm sorry, there's no mistake."

"But…" James said, shaking his head. "I saw him yesterday."

"You saw him yesterday?" McGonagall asked in surprise. "When? What happened?" James recounted the conversation (leaving out the invisibility cloak). "Drood? That's what the patronus said?"

"Yes," James said. "Look, he can't be dead. He just can't be. He defeated the most evil wizard of all time! How can he be dead?"

"I don't know," McGonagall said, sniffing slightly. "He was found in his office in the ministry. Locked in, no signs of any intruders either."

"Avada Kedavra?" James asked in a hushed voice as he started to accept that this might, just might have happened.

"Surprisingly no," she said. "He… um… He was stabbed."

"What!" James said. "_Muggle_ murder? This doesn't make any sense."

"I know it doesn't," she agreed. "I'm very sorry. I was very fond of Harry. Misbehaving student though he was." She moved behind her desk and dipped her quill in the ink well. "I need to write to the ministry. Drood? You're sure."

"Yes," James said. "Harry… my father… He's really… dead?" James asked slowly.

"I'm sorry, yes," she said. "Your mother's coming to the castle tonight to take you home."

James looked at his hands. He'd seen his father less than twenty four hours ago, and now he was dead? It seemed impossible. But McGonagall wouldn't lie about something like this. Before he knew it, he found his eyes filling with tears, as if he had begun to accept it. That he would never see his father again. Could that be true?

McGonagall let out a low whistle and an owl came to the window, quickly as if it had been waiting outside for her. She quickly tied the roll of parchment to him and the bird flew away quickly. Then she turned to James.

"James, I am so sorry," she repeated. "Do you want to stay here until your mother arrives?"

"No," he said at once, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. "I'll be in the grounds," he said. Without waiting for further conversation he turned and left the office. Once down the spiral stairs he waited for a moment, the news hovering around him heavily, his breathing coming in gasps.

And then he ran.

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**Hope you don't hate me... Please leave a review, thank you.**


	8. At Hagrid's Cabin

James found himself at Hagrids. He had raced around the grounds, as if running could leave his grief behind him. When he had a stitch in his side and was completely worn out, Hagrids had only been a few paces away. So he knocked on the door and was nearly crushed by a desolate Hagrid. He'd clearly heard the news, and Fang (the third) was whining, curled up under the kitchen table. James had to dart under Hagrids arm before he would have been crushed, and sat on the armchair.

"You've heard then," James said hollowly.

"I can' understand it," Hagrid said with a very large sniff as he shut the door. "Ter survive all tha' and then end up like… I don't know James. It just don' seem fair."

"It's not," James said, wishing he could turn the clock back. He wanted to cry but his eyes didn't seem to agree with him. He barely felt sad, he just felt empty. Like there was this space where his father used to be. It seemed unreal that he was gone. Like he could walk around the corner at any moment. "Who did it Hagrid? Who killed him?"

"I don' know," he said, pouring himself a large tot of brandy. "Do yer want some tea?"

"No thanks," James said. Hagrid took a fortifying gulp and then sighed. "Do you think…" James started. Then he pressed on regardless. "Do you think Voldemort's back?"

"No," Hagrid said. "He can't be back. He's dead, an' I know that fer a fact."

"But who else could get into the ministry… kill him and then get back out without being caught?" James's voice wavered on the word kill, but he had carried on bravely.

"I don' know," Hagrid said, before blowing his nose. "It won't be a muggle. Muggle's can' get in. Even accidentally, yer know?

"Fine then," James said, almost desperately. "Why stab him then? It's so… much harder that casting a curse isn't it?" he finished.

"Killin's never easy unless yer don' have a soul," Hagrid said darkly. He was about to say something else but he never got that far. There was a hammering on the front door.

"James! Are you in there?" It was Fred. Hagrid opened the door and he came in, face pale. "James, I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Your mum's in the headmistresses office. They sent me to find you."

"Right," James said. He got up and gave himself a shake. This felt surreal. Then he followed Fred back up to the castle.

* * *

James didn't remember getting back to the castle. He didn't remember how he got home to 12 Grimmauld place. He _did_ remember his mothers face, and wished he couldn't. She was so grief stricken it was hard to watch, her face red, blotchy and tear stained as she organised the funeral. James couldn't believe it. It had barely been a week and he was back at home. In his mind he thought Albus and Lily would be bombarding him with questions about Hogwarts. But he'd never thought he'd be coming home to this. Over the next few days people kept visiting the house with their condolences, some James recognised, but most he didn't. Their house soon mirrored a flower shop. Ginny actually got so annoyed by one bunch of pansies that kept playing sad violin solos every time someone walked passed them that she burned them, pointing her wand at the smouldering embers in frustration.

Ginny had arranged for the funeral to be held at Godric's hollow, because it felt right that Harry would be with his parents, who he didn't even remember in life. The funeral would be private. Only family, and a few close friends. No one from the Ministry was invited. And no journalists either. There had been a public outpouring of grief in the Daily Prophet, but James didn't read it. It would all be meaningless anyway. A colourful and in parts untruthful tale about how the famous Harry Potter vanquished the most evil wizard of all time. Just to end up with a knife in his chest. Apparently ministry officials were looking for his murderer, but no luck yet.

The night before the funeral James couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Then his bedroom door opened a crack. "You awake?" Lily whispered.

"Yes," James said, switching the light on. "I don't feel like sleeping."

"Can you tell me about Hogwarts?" Lily asked, sitting on the end of her brothers bed.

"What?"

"I know it's sad about dad," she said. "I know that, but I want to know about school. I want to talk about something normal. I don't want to think about dad… dying." Her bottom lip wobbled slightly.

"Okay," James said for his little sister. "I'll tell you about the Hufflepuff common room. Dad never went there."

"Okay," Lily said with a smile. "Good." And James started to tell her about life in Hufflepuff. He even trusted her with the password, thinking that it would probably have changed by the time Lily got to Hogwarts anyway. He liked seeing his sister smile.

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**Thank you for the reviews. Really means a lot. Hope this lives up to expectations.**


	9. The Funeral

"Come on, hurry up!" Ginny called up the stairs. She was pacing around the kitchen, looking at the fire. They were going to be arriving by Floo powder and her children were upstairs somewhere. Ron and Hermione were both in the kitchen, white faced. Hugo and Rose had gone upstairs and all five children were no doubt chattering away. Ginny couldn't blame them. If she had something else to do, she'd be doing it.

"Ginny," Ron said slowly.

"No," she said. "There's nothing you could say. So don't try."

"You're not the only one grieving Ginny," he said.

"Ron, leave it," Hermione said quietly, a hand on her husbands arm restraining him.

"Come on!" she shouted up the stairs again. Suddenly there was a tumble of five sets of feet coming downstairs. All of them burst into the kitchen, looks of sadness and sorrow on their faces. Ginny felt sad that her children and their cousins had to go through this. A funeral for their father when they were so young. She shook her head and reached for the pot of emerald green powder over the fireplace. "Ready?"

* * *

James felt the breeze across his face as he stood outside, watching as the coffin was lowered into the ground. This seemed surreal. Even so, he felt a lump in his throat as the coffin hit the ground with a dull thump. The funeral was small, considering Harry's fame. The Weasleys, and Harry's immediate family. Neville Longbottom was there, as was McGonagall, Hagrid and an old warlock called Hopkins, who had worked with Harry for ten years in the Auror office, and was his best friend at the ministry. Aunt Luna was there too. Not technically James's aunt, but she was almost family. Everyone else hadn't been allowed here, so it was a relatively small gathering.

The wizard officiating was saying some words which James couldn't hear. He was thinking of his father the way he'd known him. Not as the defeater of Voldemort, but as a normal person. Someone who would shout at the wizarding wireless network when the England Quidditch team made a mistake. Harry had been shouting constantly at the English team. James smiled at the memory when they'd been playing South Africa about two years ago. Thomas had seen the snitch and instead of flying towards it had started having an argument with the South African keeper. Letting their seeker get the snitch easily, and win by three hundred and twenty points. Harry had been spitting mad for days.

Suddenly the wizard waved his wand and the pile of earth fell onto the coffin with a soft thump. He pointed the wand and a headstone arrived out of thin air, several white lilies resting against it, as grass magically sprouted over the grave. After several minutes of silence people started to disband, walking away from the site of Harry's burial. James didn't move. Ginny had Hermione and Ron on either side of her, supporting her, seemingly not noticing that her eldest son wasn't with her.

James read the fresh neat inscription on the headstone. _Here lies Harry Potter, beloved father, husband and friend. May he rest in peace_. James felt the tears blur his vision as he started to accept that he would never see his father again. He was gone. Dead. Really and truly gone. James sniffed and wiped his eyes. That was when he realised he wasn't alone. Hopkins who worked with Harry was standing, looking at James.

"What do you want?" James asked rudely.

"To say I'm sorry for your loss," he said. "Harry was… well, we all know what he was."

"Why is he dead?" James asked. "It seems so senseless."

"I know," Hopkins said. The silence spread out between them, only the rustle of leaves breaking it. James thought to himself about the murder. Who could have done it? James had always thought of his father as invincible. He'd defeated Voldemort after all. But the man who might be able to tell him, give him details was standing right next to him. So James asked a simple question.

"Who killed my father?"

"I don't know who he is," Hopkins said. "I only know what he calls himself. And I'm not certain either, but it seems unlikely it would be anyone else."

"Who?"

"Drood," he said, his breath coming out in a rush. "The man that we've been trying to catch, called Drood."

"Why stab him?" James asked, capitalising on the fact that someone wanted to talk to him, rather than treat him as a distressed child.

"I have a theory," he said. "Your father survived Avada Kedavra twice. When cast from one of the most powerful and evil wizards ever to exist. If I was a killer, I wouldn't use a method that had failed twice before." James nodded, thinking he had a very valid point. "Go to your mother," Hopkins said quietly. "She'll want to see you're safe after today." Hopkins turned and walked away and James realised that he was right. So he looked at his fathers grave one more time and then turned and left him to the cold earth.

* * *

The next evening James returned to Hogwarts. Selfish as it was, he didn't want to stay in a house so filled with grief, and going back to school wouldn't make his father any worse off, so it was what he chose to do. His mother had been crying when they said goodbye, but that wasn't unusual these days. Anything could set her off. Before leaving, he gave his mother a long hug. Usually he felt he was too old for it, but he knew his mother needed comfort. "Take care of yourself," she said urgently. "Anything suspicious or abnormal, send us an owl."

"I will," he said, even though he knew he wouldn't. He wasn't going to add to his family's worries. It never occured to James that his fathers killer might be after him as well.

He used the floo powder and came out of the fire in the Hufflepuff common room, causing some third years playing Gobstones near the hearth to squeal with alarm as a student came out of the fire. He scanned the common room, looking for Lucy and found her, curled up on a sofa, quill and parchment on her lap, against a large book as she scribbled something down. She looked up and saw James with a start. Lucy rolled the parchment up and then walked over to him. "How are you?"

"Not here," he said grimly, noticing that everyone was trying to listen. "Meet me outside the barrels in five minutes," he whispered. She nodded and didn't ask questions. James went up to his dormitory and quickly grabbed the invisibility cloak. He didn't mind talking to Lucy, but he wanted to be out of the Hufflepuff common room when he did it. He covered himself up and then left, finding Lucy waiting outside. She turned as the barrels moved, letting James out, but of course she couldn't see him. Then she watched open mouthed as he took the cloak off and appeared out of thin air.

"That's amazing!" she said. "Wow!" James grinned. The smile felt strange on his face.

"Get under the cloak," he said. "I want to talk away from everyone else." She nodded, eyes wide as the cloak covered her.

"This is awesome!" James smiled again, and kept walking until they found an empty classroom.

"So, how are you?"

"Terrible," he said. "My fathers dead."

"I know how you feel," she said quietly.

"You can't."

"My dads dead too," she said quietly. "I told you at the feast."

"Oh. Right. Sorry, I forgot," he said, feeling guilty.

"Anyway, I know how you feel," she repeated. "So what happened?" James took a deep breath and told her everything.

"So this man, Drood, killed your father?" James nodded. "But why? Who is he? Why would he want your father dead?"

"Those are questions I don't have answers to," he said grimly. Lucy opened her mouth to speak but James shushed her quickly. He heard a noise in the corridor.

"Get under the cloak!" he hissed. She did, and just in time. Peeves the poltergeist came into the room, no doubt attracted by the sound of their voices.

"I know you're there," he said, his voice holding all sorts of mischief. "Are you hiding from Peeves? Students shouldn't be out of bed and roaming around the castle at this time of night, you know. It's against the rules." They both stayed perfectly still under the cloak. "Oh dear, not going to come clean are we?" he said, his voice taking on a sneer. "I'll call Filtch, and see if that makes you…"

"Run!" James shouted as Peeves moved from the doorway to investigate. They both did, clutching the cloak around them like a protective shield. They ran through the castle until they got to the entrance to the common room "Tita Morgis!" James breathed at the barrel. To no effect. Then he realised that they needed to tap the barrel. Lucy was one step ahead of him, wand at the ready.

"Password?" the barrel asked after the sequence.

"Tita Morgis!" they both said desperately. The barrel moved and let them inside, but not until it closed behind them did they feel safe.

"Remind me never to go traipsing around the castle with you at night ever again!" Lucy said, throwing the cloak off of herself and clutching a stitch in her side. James just grinned. If he had inherited anything at all from his father, he knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd bump into Peeves on a night time stroll.

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**Thank you so much for the reviews and alerts on this story. More soon.**


	10. A Turn Around The Grounds

**Wow, it's been a while! Sorry for that, and hope the next update doesn't take too long.**

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, James felt exhausted. He'd gotten next to no sleep, thinking about his father and the last time he'd seen him. James was just pouring some pumpkin juice when Fred came over, his usually happy and carefree face worried.

"Hey," he said, perching on the bench between Lucy and James. "How are you?"

It was clear he was talking about in the aftermath of the funeral, how James was coping. "I'm fine if I don't think or talk about it," James said. "New subject please."

"Okay," Fred said, his serious expression fading into his normal smile. He took in a breath to speak, but they were interrupted by the post owls arriving. James looked up for Farley, but he wasn't there. Not that he expected a letter, but it still felt a little disheartening to know that no one wanted to communicate with him. Fred on the other hand was taking a newspaper off of the leg of a smart brown owl. He put a few knuts into the pouch on the owls leg and he flew off with a low hoot.

"You have the Daily Prophet delivered?" James asked in surprise.

"Only on days after the Montrose Magpies have played," Fred said, flicking to the Quidditch pages at the back of the paper. "I want to know the score."

James looked at the discarded front section of the paper and swallowed uncomfortably. The cover showed a massive picture of his father. The photo was recent and rather uncomfortably, Harry's photographic self was moving slightly. The headline read "Respects Paid to Murdered Hero." And beneath it "The hunt is on for the killer."

James didn't want to read it. He had heard stories about the mess the Prophet had helped create in the year after Voldemort's return. It did not endear him to the paper, even though the writers had mostly retired since then.

He screwed up the offending pages and then poked his wand at them, willing them to set on fire with a spell he hadn't yet learnt. Lucy saw what he was doing and muttered "Incendio," under her breath, making the paper smoke then burn and quickly disappear into a pile of grey ashes on the table. "We haven't learnt that yet," James said, making her smile.

"I was practising," she said with an easy grin. "It's why I've burnt half of my socks."

"The house elves will be devestated," he said, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Lucy asked confused. James didn't explain because Fred interrupted.

"Yes!" Fred said. "We won. Two hundred and ninety to One hundred and seventy."

"While on the subject, aren't Quidditch tryouts this weekend?" Lucy said. "It's on the Hufflepuff notice board," she added to the other twos blank stares. "Are you going out for it?"

"I don't know," James said. "I might. I don't want to be a disappointment. Especially now that…"

"How about you?" Fred asked Lucy, interrupting.

"Are you joking? Up until about two months ago, I had no idea that magic even existed. I thought I was just weird. Now you're suggesting I be suspended in mid air on nothing more than an enchanted stick? I think I'll skip that." James laughed, he couldn't help it.

He only stopped when the bell rang, and there was a rush from the tables as people got up to go to class. "Where are we?" James asked.

"Potions," Lucy said quickly.

"Perfect," James replied. "Lets see what damage we can do this time."

* * *

As it turned out, not much damage at all. It seemed that Tabitha Edwards didn't trust them to make anything more complicated than what looked to be soup. And completely unmagical. James was tempted to use one of his uncles Puking Pastilles which was floating around in the bottom of his school bag. But then thought that skipping out would be unfair, especially as he might need it in the future. He didn't want to use his free pass so quickly.

When the lunch bell rang, there was an audible sigh of relief through the class. There was a battle at the door to get out first, but James could feel Tabitha's eyes on him the entire way. He hadn't given their mystery potion a lot of thought with what had happened since, maybe he should. All they'd done was follow the instructions on the blackboard. What had gone wrong?

After both he and Lucy wolfed down some lunch, they went outside and walked around the grounds. Lucy had seen almost nothing of them, and heard even less, having been raised by muggles. She was fascinated by the giant squid, whose tentacles were lazily playing with floating oak leaves, just beginning to fall off of the trees in the first signs of Autumn.

They walked around the perimeter of the forbidden forest too, seeing nothing more threatening than a few birds or spiders crawling under the canopy of trees. James was in no rush to delve deep into the forest. More dangerous things than he could cope with at the moment.

They didn't go into Hagrid's, because he was teaching a Care of Magical Creatures class. They both watched from a distance as two unicorns were being shown around, one pure white, and a younger one which was silver. Beautiful creatures which shone and glittered in the afternoon sunlight. "Oh they're so pretty!" Lucy said eagerly. "My wand's got a unicorn hair in it." James said nothing, just watched Hagrid with interest.

He was the one person in this school who realised what it meant that Harry Potter was dead. They were friends. Had been ever since Harry was eleven. McGonagall had known him that long too of course, but somehow it was different with Hagrid. He found that for a few moments it didn't hurt to think of his father, having tea with Hagrid in his free time over the years. But then he shook the thought aside.

Fred came up to them, running flat out, a look of happiness on his face. "Wanna practise Quidditch?" he asked.

"We don't have brooms," Lucy said simply. "You might, but we don't." Fred grinned happily and threw something to Lucy. A key to the broom shed.

"Just until we're good enough to unlock doors with our wands," Fred said with a grin. "Come on James, you must be up for a bit of flying."

James looked at Fred blankly for a moment then grinned happily. "Hell yeah."

Both boys turned to Lucy who frowned slightly. "Okay, I'll do it. Just don't let me break my legs," she said. "Agreed?"

"Agreed." The three of them rushed towards the Quidditch pitch, eager to be up in the air.

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**If you have the time to leave a review, I really appreciate it. Thanks for reading.**


	11. Quidditch Tryouts

As promised, the key unlocked the broom shed, and they grabbed three broomsticks in the gathering dusk. James and Fred both were up in the air in seconds, passing the Quaffle to and fro. Meanwhile Lucy just held her broomstick staring at it in bewilderment. James swooped over her and smiled. "Just try it."

She did, looking at the broomstick in disbelief. She managed to make it hover about three foot off of the ground and very slowly began going around in circles with it. The boys watched her for a moment, then Fred started showing off, doing a few loops. "You can go higher if you want," James suggested.

"Er no thanks," she said. "I think this is high enough. If I fall I won't break any bones from this distance." She kept to her word, but after a while she gripped the broomstick handle tighter and she started going faster and faster until she was whizzing underneath them, as fast as she could go and thoroughly enjoying herself.

It was only when Fred accidentally dropped the Quaffle and much to her own surprise as anyone else's, she caught it under her right arm that she stopped hovering a few feet from the ground. She looked at both boys in shock at the red ball and then zoomed upwards without even thinking about it.

The laughter from the three of them reached two silent spectators, standing in front of Hagrid's house. As the darkness gathered, they stopped being able to see them, but could hear their squeals of excitement and peals of laughter.

"You know who they remind me of?" McGonagall said quietly.

"I know exactly who they remin' you of," Hagrid said, amusement in his voice. "It could be twen'y years ago, and you'd not know the difference."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Well, you would never get Hermione Granger on a broomstick, but apart from that…"

Hagrid smiled at them, then coughed. "What 'appened to Harry?"

"I don't know," McGonagall said. "But whatever it was, whoever killed him… it's a power I'd rather not face. I'm old Hagrid." He sniffed uncomfortably but said nothing. "If something is brewing, and the Ministry thinks it is… I can't do it all over again."

"Are you leaving Professor?"

"I might," she said. "At the end of the school year. But I want to know what shape this threat is taking."

"You don' think… You know who?"

"No I don't," McGonagall said firmly. "I didn't anyway, but I went and checked. His body's still where we buried it. The grave hasn't been disturbed."

"Oh," Hagrid said quietly. "That's good." Minerva sighed. "Isn' it?"

"Well, if it were him we would at least know what we're up against. At the moment we have no information. I'm not sure which is worse." She shook her head and paid attention to the first years flying on the pitch, even though she couldn't see them any longer. "I should put them in detention. Breaking into the broom cupboard, flying on the Quidditch pitch without permission, plus they should be back in their dormitories by now."

Hagrid smiled at them. "You have a Fred Weasley and a James Potter over there. D'you really think detention will make much diff'rence?"

"No," Minerva said. "I don't." She smiled at them again. "I'm going to the Ministry. Can you keep an eye on the school over the weekend?"

"O' course professor," he said. "G'night."

"Goodnight Hagrid." Professor McGonagall went back to the castle, ignoring the cluster of owls that flew overhead on their nightly prowl. Hagrid watched the three first years until they put the brooms away and vanished up to the main castle, laughter drifting back to him. Hagrid went into his hut and sighed. Were dark times coming once more?

* * *

Saturday afternoon saw James on the Quidditch pitch and Lucy in the stands watching. While she had had fun last night, she was not going to get on a broomstick with loads of better fliers than herself watching. No, she'd rather sit safely in the stands.

James on the other hand was waiting for the beaters try outs. The seekers had been first and Robyn Saunders, the captain of the Hufflepuff side had picked her choice. Daniel Mex, a light and speedy third year. The chasers were flying around in groups of five, passing the Quaffle between them as the captain watched critically.

On the other hand, James was looking at the Bludgers, straining against the chains tying them in the box. This was a stupid idea. He could never measure up to his father, so why bother trying?

"Right, the chasers are going to fly and try and score, while the beaters try to knock them off of their brooms," Robyn said loudly. She looked at the parchment list and called out four names to go first, one of which was "Potter." James was relieved he could go early. It would stop him obsessing over the reasons he was doing this for.

He swung his leg over his broom (one of the school ones. His own Dynamo 210 was still at home) and kicked off from the pitch. Once he was in the air, he remembered why he was doing this. It was _fun_. With the club in hand, he looked around as Robyn unleashed both bludgers, watching the four hovering broomsticks with interest.

One of the bludgers came straight towards James as soon as it was released. He took aim with the bat, and then swung it with all his might as a Chaser, Jenny Nocks, thirty feet above him. James flew slowly around the pitch, keeping an eye on the other bludger as the first one hit the chaser directly on the back of the head. James smiled with triumph, then gasped as the chaser wobbled and then fell off of her broomstick, clearly unconscious. James flew forward quickly, unsure if this gave him bonus points or ruined his chances for the Quidditch team, and miraculously caught her on his broom. He had a fistful of her canary yellow Quidditch robes, trying to pull her to safety.

The old school broom, couldn't cope with the weight of an extra person though and started to sink towards the ground. Slowly, then much faster, and James could see the ground getting closer. Both of them fell off in an ungraceful heap onto the pitch with a thump.

James watched as Jenny started to open her eyes, and put a hand to her head.

"Potter, you can hit a bludger," she said, wincing at the lump. He grinned apologetically.

"I didn't mean to knock you out."

"Isn't that the name of the game?" she asked. "Where's my broom?" James looked around bewildered and saw the broom in question hovering about fifty feet in the air. Robyn Saunders flew to the empty broom, grabbed it and dived to the ground. She handed the broom to Jenny and then looked at James.

"Are you all right Jenny?" she asked. The girl nodded. "Potter, can you really hit bludgers like that all the time, or was that a fluke?" Robyn asked. James smiled and grabbed his bat.

"Give me five minutes and I'll have someone else off their broom," he said confidently. Robyn looked at him critically.

"Go on then," she said. "I've told the Chasers to watch out for you." James took one last look at the girls and then took off, seeing a black spot on the horizon. He flew towards it, took aim at the bludger and hit it with all his might.

* * *

"Well?" Fred asked at dinner that night, hoping over to the Hufflepuff table, wanting to know how try outs had gone.

"He's on the team," Lucy said succinctly as James swallowed his mouthful of roast potatoes. "After one chaser was knocked unconscious, two broken arms, one fractured ankle and knocking the seeker through the goal post so he fell onto the pitch."

James felt embarrassed by the amount of damage he'd done in one afternoon.

"The broken bones were fixed in a few seconds by Madam Merryweather in the hospital wing."

"Even so," Lucy said. "That's a lot of damage!"

James shrugged, helping himself to some ice cream. "But I'm on the team," he said with a grin. "Anyway, causing damage is what I'm supposed to be doing as a beater."

Lucy shook her head. "I don't think a game where there are two balls trying to unseat players and knock them out of the air throughout the entire sport is a game for me," she said.

"Muggle upbringing," Fred said wisely. "Give it a year, you'll have a different opinion." Lucy elbowed him in the ribs. James smiled, the only feeling he had was an ache in his right arm from where he'd hit the bludgers. It was a satisfying ache.

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**Thank you for the reviews so far. I would love it if you could leave another one. More soon.**


	12. The Castle at Night

The days started passing in a blur. The last vestiges of summer faded into a cool Autumn, leaves falling from the trees and cold breezes making them shiver in the corridors between classes. James had been training on the Quidditch pitch three nights a week, and while it was always exhausting, it was good fun too. Matthew Piper was the other Hufflepuff beater, an easy going fourth year who had the eye to aim bludgers at chasers who were just about to score. They were both very effective, so much so that Madam Merryweather came to every practise to mend the broken bones of the chasers, keeper and seeker who hadn't seen a bludger flying at them.

As time went by, the Quidditch sessions became more intense, and James found that he'd stopped comparing himself to his father. He was playing for himself.

One night he was traipsing back up to the castle when he bumped into Lucy who'd ran across the grounds to meet him. "What's wrong?" he asked instantly.

"Nothing," she said. "But I've had a thought."

"Go on," he said as they went through the great doors of the castle.

"Well, we're don't see a lot of the castle," Lucy said. "All of our classes are on the lower floors. So is the common room. Why don't we… do some exploring."

"Are you crazy? We'll be caught."

Lucy looked around, making sure no one was overhearing their conversation. "Your dads invisibility cloak!"

"Oh yeah," he said. "I actually forgot I had that. It's at the bottom of my trunk. But where will we go?"

"I don't know," she said. "Isn't that the fun of it?"

* * *

"This is insane," James said as they both got under the cloak at midnight in the empty common room. "What are we going to find?"

"I haven't heard about Hogwarts my entire life, and I have an imagination. You've grown up with stories about this place. Aren't you in the least bit curious what's above the third floor?"

James smiled at her as they went out of the common room. They went without any direction at all, the only aim being to go upwards to the many towers and turrets that made up the castle. After they'd gone up the first five flights of stairs they came across, they were in an area of the castle that neither of them recognised.

"Where now?" James asked, looking around the empty dark corridors, snaking off in every direction.

"That way," Lucy said, pointing to the left. James didn't argue and followed her lead, walking slowly under the cloak. They came to a locked door and James managed to get through it with an Alohomora charm before Lucy could so much as lift her wand.

"You were practising that weren't you?" she asked. He grinned. They went through the door and then froze. They were at the edge of the building, five floors up and the door had opened to the outdoors. They were standing on a tiny stone balcony, the entirety of the grounds displayed to them in the moonlight. The stars were bright and the lake shone almost silver. James threw the cloak off, breathing in the fresh air.

"Wow," Lucy said under her breath. James had to agree. There was a small stream of smoke coming from Hagrid's hut and the forest looked imposing behind it. There were owls flying overhead, hooting quietly as they flew in and out of the owlery, some with letters tied to their legs. The view was incredible.

"What's that?" Lucy asked. James had been so taken with the view, that he hadn't noticed a cauldron on the balcony, but she had. It had a small fire underneath it, keeping it warm and the potion inside looked like molten gold.

"We have to get out of here," James said suddenly, his heart going cold. If there was a cauldron here, being heated, that meant that someone else would return at some point and find them out of their dormitories. James hadn't yet lost any house points, and he'd like to keep it that way.

"Why?" Lucy asked, clearly confused.

"Because someone's put that here to hide it," he said. "If we're found here, where we shouldn't be then…"

She took the point quickly and threw the invisibility cloak over the pair of them very quickly. Only when James was sure they were both covered did he return to the conversation. "What is it though? Do you know?"

"No," she said. "Looks like liquid gold. Who left it here?"

"Shh," he said quickly, hearing a rattle from down the corridor. He had no idea anyway, but soon the question was answered. The noises became louder and then the door opened. Both of the first years shrank against the balcony, breathing in and trying not to make a sound. A woman came onto the balcony, checking she was alone and then headed straight towards the cauldron. She poked her wand at the flames, which roared at the intrusion. The woman was Tabitha Edwards. James pointed at the door and Lucy took the point.

They moved as fast as they could, while being silent. They walked through the corridor, which seemed never ending now they had to get away quickly. When they were out of earshot, they ran, shooting down three flights of stairs, through a tiny corridor, down two more sets of stairs and not stopping running until they were outside their common room by the kitchen.

Lucy grabbed a stitch in her side, gasping for breath as James took the cloak off of them. "What on earth is she doing?" Lucy asked.

"I don't know, but it can't be good," James said. "If it was innocent, why not use her classroom? She has about two dozen cauldrons in the dungeons! And in her office."

"I know," Lucy said. "It's just such a strange place to start brewing a potion. What's the point?"

"She shouldn't be making it," James said simply. "That's the only reason." They both whirled around at a loud crash in the distance. "It's probably a pan being knocked over in the kitchens," James said reasonably.

"At two in the morning?"

He shook his head, taking his wand out of his pocket. "Lets just get back in the common room where its safe." She nodded fervently at that. It sounded like a fabulous suggestion. He tapped the barrel quickly, which then asked for the password.

"Florem Vitis!" they both said simultaneously.

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**Thank you so much for the reviews so far. I hope I'm living up to expectations.**


	13. Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw

At breakfast a few days later Lucy was flicking through a potions library book, trying to find a description that matched the one they'd seen on the sixth floor balcony. James sat down next to her and frowned at the book propped up against the milk jug. "Do you want to announce what we saw to the whole hall?" he asked.

"Tetchy much?" she asked. "I'm not having much luck anyway, and I could simply be studying."

James sighed, because the truth was, he was nervous. It was his first Quidditch match today, Hufflepuff v Ravenclaw. He had slept badly and the tossing and turning hadn't taken his mind off of Quidditch. The Potters were famous for their skills on the pitch, both James's father and grandfather had been excellent. If he were anything less, he might feel like a failure. That said, looking at breakfast he suddenly felt starving. He loaded his plate with scrambled eggs and bacon. Only when he'd finished and started on some toast did he realise the atmosphere was charged, with everyone looking forward to the coming match, the first one of the season.

"Looking forward to the match? Fred asked, coming over from the Gryffindor table.

"Yes," James said decisively. "As long as we win." But he felt nervous anyway. He went down to the pitch with the other members of the team and there was total silence as they got changed into their yellow robes.

Robyn turned to the team, smiling at them. "Right team, just play like you did in training earlier in the week, and we'll be fine. The Ravenclaw chasers are very good, but their seeker isn't great. Just try and stop them scoring as much as possible. And you two," she added, turning to James and Piper, the other beater. "Give them hell." James smiled, even though his insides felt like they'd turned to lead.

Robyn Saunders lead the way onto the pitch and James looked at the Ravenclaw team critically. Their beaters were massive seventh year boys, but everyone else on the team were girls. Their seeker was a tiny blonde girl who had to be a first year, she looked so young. Clearly inexperienced. But then, James thought so was he, so that didn't mean much.

"Right, on my whistle," Madam Moonshine said, the Quidditch referee. "Three two one…" The whistle rang out shrilly throughout the stands and everyone kicked off simultaneously, hearing the roar of the crowds as Ravenclaw immediately took the Quaffle. James could see both bludgers, one scattering four chasers, the other heading towards the Hufflepuff seeker. James streaked towards it as Mex dropped a few feet to avoid it and James took aim towards the Ravenclaw chaser, heading towards the goal, quaffle under her arm. He hit it and then watched with satisfaction as she avoided it, but dropped the Quaffle with her distraction. Robyn caught it and started streaking up the pitch in the opposite direction.

James spent the next half an hour trying to distract the Ravenclaw chasers, who were very good. The score was tied, 70-70 when he saw it. The blonde Ravenclaw seeker had dived magnificently, as if she'd jumped off of a cliff with the speed of her dive. She'd seen the snitch, and Daniel Mex hadn't. "Piper!" James shouted to his fellow beater over the rising noise of the crowd who'd caught on to what was happening. Matthew looked at him, and saw the situation immediately. He nodded and they both hit the bludgers directly towards the seeker within seconds of each other.

Both black balls careened towards her. She was so focused on the golden snitch that she didn't have any attention for anything else and one hit her in the small of the back, the other smashed into her right arm, breaking the bone. She fell off of her broomstick and hit the pitch hard, moaning with pain. And the snitch had vanished into thin air, much to James's relief. Matthew smiled at him, relieved as he was and the Hufflepuff crowd cheered. Robyn flew around them in a time out as the Ravenclaw seeker had her broken arm fixed. She wanted to get back in the game rather than go to the hospital wing.

"Well done," Robyn said, smiling at both of the beaters, Quaffle tight under her arm until play resumed. James smiled easily as the Ravenclaws all took to the air again, their seeker white faced but determined. He kept hitting bludgers as fast and as hard as he could, mostly at the Chasers. He stopped about ten goals before Merryweather soared high into the air like a champagne cork. He was going so fast that he had to have seen the snitch. The Ravenclaw seeker followed, urging her broom to go faster. James hung in mid air for about a minute, watching the drama unfold, before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

"Ouch," he said under his breath as a bludger hit him in the back of the head, sent to him by one of the Ravenclaw beaters. James turned, seeing the seventh year grinning at him wickedly. James gave it a good thwack and sent the bludger towards the chasers. The seekers were too close together to aim with any accuracy. All six chasers scattered from the bludger with squeals of surprise.

Then the final whistle blew. Both seekers were more than two hundred feet in the air and no one could see who'd caught the snitch. Both of them floated downwards, almost in slow motion. Then James smiled. Daniel Mex came into view as more than just a blur, and he had his hand clasped around the snitch.

The Hufflepuff seeker had caught it. They'd won.

The cheers from the stands gained in volume as people realised what had happened. Then the volume exploded, the groans of the Ravenclaws lost in the happiness of the Hufflepuffs. James directed his broom to the ground and then got caught in the group of team members all hugging each other and patting them on the back. Robyn was thrilled, her face beaming. "We won!"

"Yes we did," James agreed. Daniel Mex was smiling too, snitch still in his hand. He found James and coughed slightly.

"You saved my neck there Potter," he said. "We'd have lost if you hadn't blocked Sally Jenkins. She nearly had that snitch."

James shrugged. "It's what I'm supposed to be doing," James said simply. "And the important thing is we won." Daniel smiled widely.

"Well, thanks anyway," he said. James nodded and smiled as many Hufflepuff banners were being waved over the stands in happiness. There'd be a party tonight, James realised. In the common room, with the euphoria of a Hufflepuff win.

For the first time James felt so glad he wasn't in Gryffindor. He was out of his fathers shadow, and winning, doing it on his own felt wonderful.


	14. Playing With Fire

The euphoria after winning the first Quidditch match of the season lasted at least a week, and the bitterness of Autumn was coming close by the time the constant smile faded from James's face and the memory of bludgers whizzing over the pitch became distant. The first few hard frosts were coming over the grounds, making everything sparkle with ice. Even though the windows rattled with the wind and the corridors were cold, it still made the grounds look beautiful, sparkling in the weak sunlight.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, so while the great hall was being decorated, everyone had a free afternoon. Even though it was cold and the wind was biting, most of the school turned out on the grounds, hands in pockets and huddled around small bonfires which some of the more ambitious students had conjured, despite the fact it was against the school rules. The Transfiguration teacher, Professor Martin was supervising making sure the students didn't try to kill each other, but he was rather relaxed. As long as no one set the whomping willow on fire, he didn't really care much what the students did.

James, Lucy and Fred were walking aimlessly around the grounds. Lucy was the only one who had bothered with a scarf and gloves, and she felt rather smug, looking at the other two, rubbing their hands and trying to warm them. They stopped at a massive bonfire that Hagrid had stoked near the empty pumpkin patch. There were groups of students, mostly fourth and fifth years around it, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at something the first years couldn't see. James snaked through the crowds, glad he was small and the other two followed in his wake.  
When he got to the front, he saw what all the fuss was about. The bonfire was monstrous, there were several salamaders rushing in and out of the flames, sparks shining off of their slippery bodies as they darted through the fire. But what really caught his attention was a four legged creature, roaming about in the heart of the fire. "What is that?" James asked Hagrid, seeing the creature climb higher in the fire, up to the level of his shoulder.

"Tha'?," Hagrid said. "Tha's a firefox. They're really rare," he added proudly.

Now Hagrid had said it, James could see the foxes faces, lit up by reds and oranges. "Oh it's beautiful!" Lucy said, inching nearer the hot fire, seeing eyes black as coals.

"Yes," Hagrid said. "It'll die when it leaves the flames though. Needs the heat you see?"

"Couldn't you keep it in your fire inside?" Fred asked.

"No," Hagrid said. "Not hot enough for 'im. Too small too."

"How'd you catch it then?" Lucy asked.

"Found the ashes of him from my las' bonfire," he said. "Lit the fire with what was left."

"It's wonderful," James said, just as an older student threw a stick into the fire. The fox chased after it in a magnificent shower of gold and red sparks and embers. James smiled at it, and then turned around as a elbow hit him in the back. He whirled around, seeing Sally Jenkins, the Ravenclaw seeker, anger on her face. Actually, she looked more than angry, she was furious.

"Potter, you broke my arm and made me look like an idiot in front of the entire school!"

"I was playing a game," he said. "And your arm was fixed instantly anyway."

"That's not the point!"

"Quidditch is rough!" he shouted, catching other peoples attention now.

"C'mon, break it up," Hagrid said loudly. Sally ignored him.

"You're going to get what's coming to you Potter!" Then, before he could react, he felt hands on his shoulder, pushing him into the bonfire. Lucy screamed in shock, as did several of the other students. Hagrid was the first to act, hands reaching into the fire and grabbing James's robes and pulling him out. James could feel his skin burning and the sleeve of his right arm was on fire. Hagrid dragged him by the scruff of his neck and plunged his arm into the water butt outside his hut. The flames were extinguished but James could still feel his arm burning, unsurprisingly.

"Aguamenti," Professor Martin said clearly, having heard the noise and come over to see what was wrong. He pointed his wand at the bonfire causing a torrent of water to fall over it. The fire hissed, crackled and then died, the firefox vanishing with a puff of smoke and a small cry. "Miss Jenkins, come with me," he said, voice like ice. "You're going to see the headmistress. And fifty points from Ravenclaw. I daresay you'll get a week's worth of detentions too, but I'll leave that to McGonagall to decide."

Sally Jenkins looked scared. "Now!" Martin said. She had her head to the ground and followed the Transfiguration teacher back up to the school, silence in their wake. James needed the hospital wing, and Hagrid knew it. "C'mon," Hagrid said, half dragging half carrying James towards the castle. All James could focus on was the pain.

Once in the hospital wing Madam Merryweather slathered his arm with a thick green cream and then left it there to set. "You're going to have a sleepless night I'm afraid. It's going to sting as the skin heals. You're here until the morning."

"But the feast…"

"I'm sorry," she said. "Unless you want permanent scarring, you're staying here."

So James spent his first Halloween at Hogwarts in the hospital wing, his arm throbbing. The one tiny satisfaction was that Sally Jenkins had been forbidden from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, had had a weeks worth of detentions, and her loss of points had made Hufflepuff overtake Ravenclaw in the race for the House cup. Now Hufflepuff were second, just behind Gryffindor by about thirty points. Lucy had told him when she visited. It was a silver lining, even though he was missing the live bats and the massive pumpkins which were big enough for him to sit inside. And pumpkin pie. God, he really wanted a slice of pumpkin pie.


End file.
